paparazzi
by Ferdinand with Flowers
Summary: PROMISE I'LL BE KIND BUT I WON'T STOP UNTIL THAT BOY IS MINE ///AU Marluxia/Axel/Xigbar-centric///


Disclaimer  
Lady Gaga lyrics. (luv her)

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Paparazzi

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_Need that picture of you it's so magical_

And he smokes all alone, with no one to call his own. He could call someone, but really. Did he seriously want some fake ass model to just kiss up to him?

He just sighs as he flips through that magazine for what seems like the millionth time. Damn, he just loves that pretty pretty boy on the cover.

Of course secretly he hates him, just someone who is immensely fake and doesn't deserve the cover. He feels vapid rage course through his veins, he just can't stand seeing that model's vain smile.

He just grabs and tears the cover page.

He looks at that page, hating (and loving) it.

He can't take the model's face anymore.

He takes a deep breathe from that malign cigarette.

And gently uses it to lit up that annoying model.

That didn't solve anything, of course it did make him feel better. He held on to a corner of it, watching bitter, jealous flames eat away at the pretty face. He dropped it into a glass ashtray before the snapping jaws of the flames could ask for more.

_Shadow is burnt, yellow dance and return_

He still remembers -shit, how could he not?- his favorite boyfriend Axel.

A pyromaniac artist with the skills of Leonardo and the patience of Picasso and the uniqueness of Warhol and the last time Marluxia had named a list, Axel had shot him down and told him he was nothing like them.

Marluxia would just laugh, kiss him, and told him he was better than all three of them combined. Axel would just sneer and retort with the ever present, 'I sold my soul' comment.

Then they would usually have sex, a giant dance of burning shadows. And after? Shoot, after Axel would complain like a bitch and make a sarcastic retort. Marluxia would feign his hurt feelings and Axel would coo him into make up sex.

And after that… well, they would usually go to the expensive café across the street from Axel's flat. Marluxia would pout and Axel would sneer his little sneer through his tobacco stained breath, and of course he would pay.

They had fun, they really did. And Marluxia would lie if he ever said that he didn't love Axel. And that it was all about the sex.

Marluxia took it even further, well at least to himself anyways. He couldn't remember the last time he ever loved anyone, no, anything other than himself.

And when Marluxia told him he loved him, Axel freaked out.

_Baby you'll be famous chase you down until you love me_

He bites his tongue in utter disgust.

He has a new photographer, but God, he can't stand the sight of him.

Mr. Eyepatch holds his camera like a gun, takes pictures with such precession, it's a little unsettling.

Despite the utter disgust, Marluxia has to admit that the photographer is good. Of course he would never tell the cocky Xigbar that. He would just use his remark to be over him, fly high soar above.

He would just flash, flash, flash, and grin like the Cheshire cat. No scratch that. The riddle some cat would be offended if he were ever compared to Xigbar.

Unlike it, Xigbar would be blunt and give away the answer.

Flash, flash, flash, and Xigbar would come up close to Marluxia and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Marluxia would be intimidated by the man and recoil instantly, inquiring about his space.

And Xigbar would grin and mirror Marluxia in his recoiling, and -flash- take a picture.

Xigbar would then make an egotistical -flash- speech about how his great photography would make him famous, about how his great photography would make him famous, about how his great photography would make him famous, about how his great photography would make him famous, about how Marluxia should kiss and love and fuck him, and about how his great photography would make him famous.

And Marluxia would just sneer like Axel used to, and told Xigbar that he already loved someone. Of course he lied, but he did, he did.

Xigbar just -flash- smiled and said that the paparazzi reported that it was over, and at the sound of that single word, Marluxia gave in.

Xigbar loved him and kissed him and fucked him, and Marluxia just let him.

He would be famous right?

He is going to be famous.

He didn't want to be famous.

He bites his tongue in utter disgust.

_We are the crowd we're cuh-coming out_

He looks up at his monitor, that he had installed after a few unwanted 'guests' had sneaked into his apratment.

They are gathering, wavering in front of his apartment building. They have cameras with them, and are hungry for any form of his movements.

He can't stand them, and wishes he could just burn them like that picture. He can't though.

They really are killing him through the most worse types of poison.

_Don't stop, for anyone we're plastic but we still have fun._

Axel just can't stand seeing him anymore.

It kills Marluxia.

They went to the expensive café across the street from Axel's flat. Marluxia had pouted and Axel would sneer his little sneer through his mint stained breath, and of course he wouldn't pay.

Through a cup of expensive Joe, Marluxia would inquire about Axel's works and projects. Axel was detached from the conversation, not even bothering to answer the question.

And seeing tension building, Marluxia would ask for a lit, and Axel would stare away from space and glare. He had quit.

Marluxia didn't feign hurt feelings and asked what was wrong. Axel snorted in disgust, and got up from his table with a slamming palm.

He informed Marluxia to check in on the latest newsstand trough a coffee stained breathe.

Marluxia left not too long after Axel, stopping by a newsstand and picking up a new copy of a generic gossip magazine.

He wasn't so shocked that he was on the front page.

However he was shocked at what the words had said. In bright bold letters, it talked about infidelity, promiscuity, and exploitation.

Marluxia would always ignore these little pieces of offal, after all it was just gossip.

Evidently Axel did not think so.

They had a heated argument over the phone that night, that none of them could really remember.

And after that… well, they went to the expensive café across the street from Axel's flat. Marluxia would pout and Axel would sneer his little sneer through his mint stained breath, and of course he didn't pay.

They had talked about the fight, and they made amends. Then out of the blue, Axel broke up with him.

Marluxia was stunned beyond belief, and didn't even hear that Axel just wanted to be friends. Or when he repeated Marluxia's name, or when he said he'd call latter, or when Axel just got up… and left.

The only thing that really floated Marluxia's mind was the fact that, Axel had not paid again.

Bastard.

_You know that I'll be your Papa-Paparazzi  
_**Papa-Paparazzi  
**(poisonous weeds)

He couldn't stand it anymore. Those dominant weeds out there were suffocating him.

They had taken away everything away from him.

The person he truly loved. His integrity.

He just couldn't take it anymore.

They want him, they want pictures.

So he decides that he'll give them pictures they'll remember forever. He will show them how much they have really been suffocating him.

He goes to the window, and opens it. The Pink curtains billow against the screams and -flash- clicks of cameras.

He waves an arm out. And. The. People. Just. Eat. It. Up.

He smiles through -flash- clicks of cameras, as he maneuvers his sinuous body out the frame (like a pict-flash-ure?) of the window.

People are screaming now. And. He. Just. Eats. It. Up.

He throws himself off, and feels the wind billowing through his pink hair.

He could have sworn that the wind was -flash- taking pictures as will.

_- F l a s h -  
_**End  
**_- F l a s h -_

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Concrit is greatly appreciated  
A/n: I was inspired by Caidesin's _Dolly Dagger. _So Props to the author (dedicate it to him/her, actually). Oh, and Lady Gaga. Listen to her.


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